Chapter 8 - The Shadow of Revenge
The transition of power was swift and merciless.
Within forty-eight hours, the Bellini empire had ceased to exist. Their high-rises were seized, their warehouses liquidated, and Salvatore Bellini was escorted onto a private one-way flight to an isolated villa in South America under heavy surveillance.
Meanwhile, Luca moved us into the Lake Tower Penthouse.
It was a palace in the sky. Three floors of glass and steel overlooking the endless blue waters of Lake Michigan. For the first time in five years, I didn't wake up at 4:30 AM to the sound of an alarm or the drafty wind whistling through the cracks of a trailer wall.
I woke up in the softest Egyptian cotton sheets, with Luca’s heavy, protective arm draped securely around my waist.
I rolled over slowly, looking at his sleeping face.
Without the cold mask of the Don, he looked just like the boy I had fallen in love with in that diner so many years ago. The hard lines of his forehead were smoothed out; his dark eyelashes rested gently against his cheeks.
I reached out, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
Luca’s eyes instantly opened. He caught my hand, pressing a warm kiss to the center of my palm.
"Good morning, wife," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
"Good morning," I smiled. "How long have you been awake?"
"About twenty minutes," he admitted, pulling me closer until my chest was pressed against his. "I was just watching you. Making sure you were real. Making sure I wasn't going to wake up in that empty bedroom again."
My heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. "I'm real, Luca. We're here."
He leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a slow, sweet, lingering kiss that chased away every remaining shadow of the past five years. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright with emotion.
"Grace is still asleep?" he asked.
"She was sleeping like a log when I checked ten minutes ago," I chuckled. "She loves her new bedroom. She told me yesterday that her bed is like sleeping on a cloud."
Luca smiled, but then a slight hesitation crossed his face. He reached over to the nightstand, picked up a small velvet jeweler’s box, and sat up.
"Emily," he said, his voice turning serious.
I sat up, pulling the sheets around my chest. "Luca, what is that?"
He opened the box.
Inside rested an exquisite platinum ring, featuring a massive, flawless pear-cut diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds. It sparkled with such brilliant fire in the morning sunlight that it took my breath away.
"When we got married five years ago," Luca said, looking down at the ring, "we had thirty dollars between us. I bought you a silver band from a pawn shop on 4th Street. I promised you then that one day, I would give you a ring worthy of a queen."
He took my left hand in his.
"I know I cannot erase the pain of the last five years," he continued, his voice trembling slightly. "I know I cannot give you back the birthdays we missed or the lonely nights you spent crying in the cold. But I swear to you, for the rest of my days, every breath in my body will be spent making sure you and Grace know you are loved, protected, and cherished. Will you marry me, Emily? For real this time. In front of the world."
Tears blurred my vision. I didn't need the diamond. I would have taken a piece of string if it came from him.
"Yes," I sobbed, throwing my arms around his neck. "Yes, Luca! A thousand times yes!"
Luca let out a joyful laugh, slipping the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly. He lifted me into his arms, kissing me with a fierce, intoxicating passion that made the entire world outside fade into irrelevance.
Suddenly, the penthouse intercom buzzed with three sharp, urgent tones.
Luca’s smile vanished. He reached over and pressed the receiver. "What is it, Marco?"
"Boss, we have an emergency," Marco’s voice sounded tense, strained through heavy static. "The federal transport convoy escorting Vanessa Bellini to the private airfield was ambushed fifteen minutes ago on Route 41."
Luca stiffened. "Ambushed by whom?"
"Mercenaries," Marco answered grimly. "Hired guns from the Detroit faction. Salvatore may be gone, but Vanessa had secret offshore contingency funds. She escaped into the city, Boss. And we just intercepted an encrypted radio transmission from her cell."
"What did she say?"
May you like
"She’s heading for the old Moretti chapel in Rockford," Marco said. "And Boss... she didn't escape alone. She took your mother."
***
